Without a Mirror
by Nushi
Summary: “Can I see him?” He opened his eyes and glanced at her with the sharingan. “Can I see your father?” Sakura asked. A moment between Kakashi and Sakura. Oneshot [kakasaku]


Intended to be a oneshot.

Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Mishimoto-san.

* * *

Without a Mirror

* * *

The ceiling fan hung still from the ceiling as Sakura continued to stare at it from her place on the floor. She wasn't actually looking at it, but it gave her eyes something to focus on while she lost herself in thought. That is until her pillow moved beneath her, drawing attention back to her surroundings. 

The muscles of Kakashi's stomach rippled slightly as he shifted or squirmed and then settled back down. Sakura rolled her head to the left until her cheek was flat against the off white material of his anbu vest.

His arms were held away from his sides, almost spread eagle and he already had the dark gloves pulled up over his elbows. She could just make out the edge of his tattoo on his left arm.

"Want me to move?" Sakura asked breaking the silence. When she received no reply or even an acknowledgement of her question she went back to staring at the ceiling.

If he did mind her using him like this he would have just moved away from her or told her move. Sakura didn't try to get an answer from him since that would probably make him move away as well. He seemed to dislike a lot of talking if he hadn't initiated it or if it seemed unnecessary.

She knew that he hadn't fallen asleep since they'd first lain down either. His breathing was slow but didn't have the regularity of a man sleeping.

Sakura had grown accustomed to keeping her inquisitive nature under wraps in her years of knowing Kakashi. Naruto never seemed to get the hang of it so he often drove Kakashi away from their conversations instead of in.

While Sakura on the other hand had developed a talent for keeping him close with her silence and companionable presence. But at times like this, when they were alone and nothing else was happening, she always felt the urge to question him, or at the very least, talk _at_ him.

She raised her arm above her head and examined her hand lazily before crooking her finger into the dark anbu glove and slipping it off. She repeated the process on her other arm before trying to touch the ceiling fan, stretching her arms until she strained her shoulder blades.

Sighing she relaxed her arms back down and rolled over. Kakashi continued to lie still, though she noticed that his eyes were open and staring unfocused at the ceiling. His mask was in its usual position while his hitai-ate was left in a safe place until he could return to his normal jounin outfit.

Sakura dragged her own anbu outfitted body a little closer to his, resting her elbows on his chest and staring down at him. She glanced out the window behind his bed but the completely grey sky gave no clue as to where the sun was.

"What time is it?" She asked, unable to stop herself.

"Three o'clock. There's time yet before we should get ready." His eyes stayed unfocused as he didn't seem to find the need to check a clock for the answer.

Resting her chin in her hands she considered him for a moment as time crawled by. She had yet to see his face in the light of day. So far she could count the number of times she'd even gotten a glimpse of it on one hand. Most of those times being in a very poorly lit bar or at night on a mission when they portioned out meals.

"They say you wear the mask to hide your emotions better." He stared at the ceiling. "But that doesn't make much sense to me."

"Oh?" Obviously she'd interested him a little.

"Mmm." She affirmed quickly. "Eyes show emotion, even though only one of yours is showing most of the time, it doesn't hold anything." He glanced up at her face before focusing back on the ceiling.

"Unless you want it to. But even then you can fake it. Seeing the rest of your face wouldn't help much I don't think."

"Really?" He said, giving her a little more encouragement to keep going.

"Mm-hm. But others say it's because you want to blend in with the darkness better. That makes even less sense." She scooted a little closer to his head, her elbows now resting below his collarbones.

"How so?" Now he was watching her, she wondered if he'd sit up and leave.

"Well…your hair is thing you should be covering up if that were true. I mean it's a very light color, more easily noticed than your face would be." She could see his cheek quirk up a little in a half smile as it reached his eyes. It was a real smile.

"Does kind of stand out…" He said thoughtfully trying to look up to see it.

Sakura laid her head down on his chest and listened to his heartbeat before her curiosity overcame her once again. Folding her hands beneath her chin she looked at him from her position still upon his slowly rising chest.

"Why do you wear it?" It came out softer than she had planned. When he didn't answer she tried to make up for it before he decided he'd had enough of her talking.

"I mean, we've known each other for…" She had to do the math in her head quickly to make sure. "Almost six years. I've really never seen you with it off."

He didn't respond, only shifted again slightly, making Sakura's body tense in preparation to move away. When no further movement followed and he didn't tell her leave she relaxed back against him.

Finally, sure that he wasn't going to get up she rolled over onto her back. Closing the distance between their bodies she slid her side closer to his while keeping his chest as her pillow. Her eyes closed drowsily as time past and the darkening sky outside took their only light source.

She was almost asleep, already half in a nonsense dream when he started to speak.

"I look exactly like my father." Eyes snapping open in surprise, Sakura stared at the ceiling fan.

"Your father?" She said delicately, hoping he'd keep going.

"You know of him?" She nodded. Everyone who was at least a nin knew of the Konoha White Fang. They also knew the story of him through one version or another. But all the stories had a few facts in common, one was of his death by suicide and the other the events that led to it.

"I wear the mask so I don't have to see him." She rolled over until her cheek rested in the crook his shoulder, her hand pressed to his upper arm.

Too much contact would stop him so she avoided looking at him, but she knew he needed encouragement so she pressed closer.

"So you wear it all the time? Even here, in your apartment?"

"No."

"Then how can you…" Her question trailed off as something that had nagged at her brain before resurfaced.

Sitting up and glancing around she found no mirrors, she also remembered the first time she'd used his bathroom and had found it missing there as well. She found this odd, to be sure, but had ignored it and had completely forgotten.

Glancing down at him she found his eyes closed and head rolled to side; he looked for all the world asleep.

"Can I see him?" He opened his eyes and glanced at her with the sharingan. "Can I see your father?"

"No pictures of him are left." He said simply, his arms pulling closer to his sides. One of them stopped further away since her body was in the way. He looked to be preparing to get up.

"I didn't ask to see a picture." His brow furrowed with confusion as he searched her face. "You look exactly like him, you said so yourself."

The line between his eyebrows smoothed as his gaze shifted away from her. Sakura kept her face carefully blank, having learned from the best she knew it gave nothing away. Nothing of her excitement that he seemed to be considering her obvious request.

Although her hammering heart she was sure could be heard or at least felt by him. When his arm came up and his finger crooked into the upper part of the mask she was sure her heart was going to break through her chest.

He pulled it down quickly to his chin watching her eyes and face for any reaction. She blinked but nothing else passed through her eyes as she took in his face in the light.

"Why don't you want to see him?"

"Because I spent much of my childhood hating him more than anything else. I didn't want to remind anyone that I was his son. I didn't want them to think about what he'd done and what happened." Sadness filled her as she watched his face. No emotion surfaced as he spoke, like it didn't bother him in the least despite his words.

"He did the right thing." Sakura said truthfully.

"I know. That's why I hide my face now. I spent too much time rejecting him that now I don't think I should look at him at all. I don't deserve to see him." Sakura watched his lips form the words carefully. Maybe he spoke so because he had to through a piece fabric for most of his life.

She let her gaze take in all his face and then each individual feature at a time. Now she let whatever emotions may have been in her surface. He watched her purposefully; grey and red eye's roving her face.

"If the father was anything like the son, I think I could have loved him." Kakashi's eyes widened in shock as she quickly fixed her gaze on the tattoo on his arm. "If he did look exactly like his son, it wouldn't have hurt either."

Sakura put her head back to his chest, hand over his stomach as she considered his feet instead of his face. Kakashi watched her pink hair spread over his white vest as she got comfortable.

"The son tries to be like the father as much as possible."

"Not too much like him I hope. I'd prefer the son to stay here as long as possible. Otherwise I might get too lonely and go searching for him as well." A half snort that might have been a laugh escaped his lips.

He glanced down at her again but she hadn't moved to look at him. He puzzled over her double meaning before laying his arm over her waist, gloved hand resting on her arm.

"No. I'll stay." His fingertips trailed over her tattoo seemingly without thought as his eyes closed.

Sakura smiled to herself a little, feeling the hairs along her arm, then along her back stand up from his casual touch. Her mind began to drift again as the gentle movement of his breathing and heartbeat lulled her into sleep.

He listened to her for awhile, letting her sleeping form relax his body further. Her warmth sank into his torso as the coldness from the wood floor was forced to recede in defeat. He allowed himself the pleasure of her casual closeness at least for the time being. Then he'd be forced to wake her and end it like every time before.

* * *

This was floating around in my head awhile ago. Sort of stumbled upon this doc. by accident and decided to put it up after I cleaned it up a bit. 

Your Nushi


End file.
